


fatum (i'll tell you in the real world);

by hizzie



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, basically gonna be a hizzie falling in love in every alternative universe possible, orrrr basically. hizzie as every otp ever. starting by hizzie as villaneve :))))))))))
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 07:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24347200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hizzie/pseuds/hizzie
Summary: fa·tum: /ˈfaː.tum/noundestiny, fate.or, hope & lizzie falling for each other in every single alternative universe i can think of.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson & Lizzie Saltzman, Hope Mikaelson/Lizzie Saltzman
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68





	fatum (i'll tell you in the real world);

**Author's Note:**

> hi, this is a crazy idea. hope u like it!

The spacious and well-lit apartment isn’t in the state she’d expected to find when she walks in. There’s broken glass coming from the kitchen, clothes strewn about and her belongings are definitely in places they should not have been; not unless there had been a tornado or something of the sort in Paris in the last few days and it had only really focused specifically on her apartment. 

Or, well, the human embodiment of a tornado, Lizzie thinks with a slight amusement once she steps further into her bedroom and takes note of her wardrobe doors opened wide and her once neatly folded clothes completely in disarray. 

She hears the slightest movement from behind her; it’s not careful or gracious. It’s swaying, as if the person who’s done this to her belongings and is trying to sneak up on her is far too emotional to actually go through with whatever it is they’re planning - well, they might as well, but Lizzie knows that it wouldn’t be classy or clean. 

She sighs minimally - and she’d _just_ cleaned her apartment before going to prison. She turns and her slight amusement only grows when she finds one Hope Mikaelson, former MI6 agent standing on broken glass, her hands holding a gun tightly as if a lifeline, her blue eyes that Lizzie hadn’t been able to shake off from her memory staring down at her with emotions that the blonde doesn’t quite recognize. 

She chances another glance at her clothes and the mess surrounding them and smirks, “Did you have a party or something?”

The other woman doesn’t appreciate the jab - she visibly falters in exasperation, as if in complete shock that Lizzie did not _understand_ what this was about. And yeah, maybe she didn’t. Hope had proven herself to be complicated - _different._ Lizzie couldn’t get enough of it.

“I have lost two jobs,” Hope begins, her knuckles whitening around the gun as she held it up to Lizzie, “a boyfriend and a best friend because of you.” 

“Yeah, but you got some really nice clothes out of it, so…” Lizzie trailed off, and Hope could see it that even though her tone was airy and almost humorous, the blonde had meant it. As if that was a satisfying trade off - as if it had even been a trade at all. 

And besides - Lizzie _had_ told her she was sorry. 

Lizzie brings her eyes to the other woman’s hands - “What are you going to do with that?”

Hope seems taken aback by the question. She quickly shakes it off and says, “I’m gonna kill you,” but her voice wavers. 

“No, you’re not.”

“I am.” Hope says more forcefully, her grip tightening. 

“You’re not.” Lizzie repeats, rolling her eyes, and Hope seems affronted by it.

“I am!” She states like a petulant child, and Lizzie can’t help it - there’s a small smile at the corner of her cut up lips that Hope glares at.

“You like me too much,” Lizzie says, like a petulant child herself, and she’s elated when Hope seems genuinely shocked by the blonde’s courage to outright say it - something that she, herself, hadn’t even been able to _think_. Hope exhales, and Lizzie chuckles when the auburn haired woman remains holding the gun up at her in defiance in spite of everything else that has been said.

“So, what now, Hope?” 

“I’m gonna tell you something,” Hope tells her promptly, “Sit down,” she says, motioning with her gun towards the small stool that Lizzie kept by the hairdresser. The blonde raises her eyebrows at the order but obliges, curious above all to know what the auburn haired beauty had to say to her. 

Hope watches her in silence as she sits, and Lizzie’s eyes meet Hope’s as the other woman watches her for a second before she puts her gun down and walks towards her, settling the gun down on Lizzie’s bed and sitting at the end of the bed and in front of the taller blonde with ease. They stare at each other in silence for a moment, and Lizzie is happy not being the one to break it. She welcomes this, even - being able to look at Hope and having Hope look back at her. It was… not nice, but nearly so.

Hope seems to realize that Lizzie is waiting for her to speak - that Lizzie will not speak first, and that realization seems to be the thing that breaks the dam. The realization that no matter what she expects of Lizzie, she will never meet her expectations. _Unpredictable_ , Landon had called Lizzie once. She had taken it as a compliment then. She thinks she does now, too. 

Hope exhales and her shoulders drop and her hands meet her face for a moment before she looks back up at Lizzie, as if giving up - control, expectations of Lizzie, idealizations and things that just were so out of her reach and she knew were too far away from her now.

“I think about you all the time,” She tells Lizzie. Her tone is nothing but raw and sincere - Lizzie was used to hearing it from the people who begged for a chance to run, to head to their families, for mercy. The voice of someone who was ready to lay it all out for the moment, no reservations and completely vulnerable to her. “I think about what you’re wearing, and what you’re doing, and who you’re doing it with. I think about what friends you have. I think about what you eat before you work, and what shampoo you use, and what happened in your family. I think about your eyes and your mouth and what you feel when you kill someone. I think about what you have for breakfast. I just…” Hope trails off, looking away for a split second before her eyes are back on Lizzie and deep as ever, “I want to know everything.”

Lizzie is not sure what to call the feeling in the pit of her stomach, not sure if it’s hunger or just her being sore from her last few days or if it’s just the effect Hope Mikaelson has on her, but it makes her eyes burn slightly and she feels like maybe she might have a fever.

“I think about you too,” Lizzie tells her quietly, with a soft chuckle. Then, she feels the need to clarify - “I mean, I masturbate about you a lot.”

Hope looks away, “Okay, that’s -”

“Too much?” Lizzie asks, her eyebrows raised. She hadn’t mean to make the other woman uncomfortable - Landon told her that sometimes she tended to say the wrong things at the wrong times, much like himself. _A filter._ He’d told her. _We need a filter._

“No, it’s just…” Hope flushes, “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

_Oh. So not the wrong thing._

Her chuckle is somewhat relieved and Lizzie thinks that if she looks away from Hope - sitting in front of her, telling her that she thinks about her just as much as Lizzie thinks about her, - she might as well just disappear, but a bottle rolls out at the corner of her eye and Lizzie glances away for a second before she looks back at Hope, internally relieved that she was still there.

“So, you trash my apartment because you like me so much?”

There’s teasing in her tone, there almost always is, and Hope sighs - “I… I know it’s not conventional.” 

Lizzie shakes her head minimally, amused by the woman before her, and Hope sits up straighter.

“What do you want? Honestly - don’t be a dick.” She adds, pointing a finger sternly at Lizzie. It almost gives the blonde whiplash if she wasn’t so used to it from herself.

The taller woman thinks for a moment. _What does she want?_ That’s a question that’s often asked of her before she takes up a job. _What do you want?_ They ask. She tells them a car, or a nice place in Barcelona, or every designer brand outfit she can think of at the moment. The usual stuff, the stuff they can give her, the things that are possible and at her reach - that’s what she wants. The possible things.

But what does she truly want? The things that she yearns for but know that might just never be? She’s not sure - but she knows that she likes her life, she just wishes Landon would stick around sometimes to watch movies with her. She finds herself at a loss.

“Normal stuff,” She shrugs, “A nice life. Cool flat. Fun job. Someone to watch movies with.”

There. She guesses that was as honest as she could possibly get - to herself, and to Hope.

Hope studies her face for a moment, as if trying to find any hint of dishonesty - Lizzie knows she won’t find any. 

Hope surprises her by closing her eyes and throwing herself back on her bed, a long, tired sigh escaping her entire being now - “God, I’m tired.” 

Lizzie nods, knowing that Hope can’t see her but also not knowing what to do - she hadn’t expected this reaction, hadn’t expected Hope to just let herself be so vulnerable in front of Lizzie, hadn’t expected herself to like it so much. She stands up and grabs the gun from beside Hope’s leg silently, holding it in her hand by her leg and standing over Hope’s body in her own bed unsure of what to do next.

“Aren’t you tired?” Hope asks her, staring up at her ceiling, and Lizzie nods again.

“A little, yeah.” 

When Hope doesn’t say anything else, only closes her eyes and lays limp on her bed, Lizzie understands - Hope is trusting her in that moment not to shoot her. Trusting her to not be a dick and run. To just… be. A moment of peace. 

She sits down slowly beside the other woman and glances back at her for a second, finding her eyes still closed, and then she gulps minimally before she lays back so she’s resting on her own bed, feeling the instant relief the soft and warm comfort of her bed gives her tired body. Still, she hugs Hope’s gun to her chest, almost as if an anchor. 

She inhales and exhales and then glances at Hope and her closed eyes and slacked jaw - “You found me.” 

“Yes.” Hope replies.

“Well done.” Lizzie says, and she finds that she means it, and it makes Hope laugh, which makes that feeling in the pit of her stomach happen again, and it’s just -

“Thank you.” Hope responds, amused. 

She opens her eyes, then, and she glances at the blonde by her side - “Are you gonna kill me?”

Lizzie shakes her head no, her hands still holding the gun to her chest.

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

Hope glances at the gun on her chest and Lizzie gives her a small smile as she reaches her right arm over the bed and sets the gun down on the floor, her eyes not leaving Hope’s. Now they were both here, defenseless. Trusting.

Lizzie finds that she doesn’t know what to do with herself - so she does what her heart has been aching to do - she lays on her side and watches Hope’s face, the way her long lashes rest on the darkened circles under her eyes, the way her lips are full and pink, the way her jawline is sharp and beautiful and the way that Lizzie doesn’t think she’s ever seen anyone as beautiful as her before -

“Would you stay for a bit?” 

The question fights itself out of her, stumbling out of her lips before her brain catches up to it. _Filter,_ Landon had told her. Lizzie wishes she knew why she can’t control her instincts as well when it comes to Hope Mikaelson and her shiny auburn hair and pink lips. 

Hope’s eyes blink open and she turns over so she’s lying on her side, mirroring Lizzie’s position, and Lizzie thinks that this is the most she’s ever felt in her life - when her eyes meet Hope’s and she can count the small freckles on the other woman’s face and how her eyes are even prettier from up close.

Hope smiles softly at her. 

“Sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments make me happy! find me on tumblr @eviegrimhildes!! :-)


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